


play date

by smallbeans



Series: dysfunctional families [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Child Boyd, Child Erica, Child Isaac, Child Jackson, Child Scott, Child Stiles, Daddy Peter, Fighting, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Pack Dad Derek, Pack Family, Pack Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 21:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11449854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallbeans/pseuds/smallbeans
Summary: Uncle Peter and his daughter come to the house for a play date. What could possibly go wrong?





	play date

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mean for this to be so sad and angry. Oops!

Derek woke up to a heavy weight jumping on his chest. He opened his eyes groggily, mind barely online.

"Stiles!" Someone hissed. "I told you not to wake him up. Come on, get off him!"

"But—" the weight, Stiles, began above him.

"No," someone said, and there was a sequence of foots steps before he weight on his chest was being removed. "You know Derek doesn't like it when he's woken up this early. It's a weekend, we have to stay in bed until breakfast."

The voices were retreating, heading back towards the door. Derek peeled his eyes open, head following the voices to see Boyd leading Stiles by the hand back to the door. They were both dressed in pyjamas, evident that Boyd had probably only just woken up when he heard Stiles moving about.

"But it is breakfast, Boyd!" Stiles said, loudly. Derek could barley resist the smile tugging at his lips at the concept of his youngest.

"Breakfast already?" Derek asked.

Stiles spun around with a gasp, staring wide eyed at the bed as if Derek had just woken up from a three year coma.

"Derek!" He shrieked, grinning comically wide as he ran and launched himself on the bed. Derek grunted when the weight landed on his rib cage, but couldn't resist smiling at how excited Stiles was. "You're awake! See, I told you, Boyd!"

Derek chuckled, chest shaking and jostling the child on his chest. He glanced at his eldest, who was standing by the door with a small smile tickling the corners of his lips.

"So, what's on the menu for breakfast today?" Derek asked, still smiling like a looney.

"Pancakes!" Stiles shouted, and Derek wanted to warn him about keeping the volume down in case he woke the others up, but supernatural hearing and young youths combined meant Derek's other children will be wide awake already.

"Okay, pancakes it is. Go down with Boyd," Derek said, and Stiles scrambled off his chest, almost tripping over his Star Wars pyjama bottoms, and ran out the door, the sound of his small clumsy feet hitting the wooden stairs. Derek looked at Boyd, who was still standing by the door. Derek could hear the heartbeats in the house, and none of them - apart from Scott, who slept like a rock - were slow enough to still be slumbering.

"Jackson and Isaac are in the kitchen," Boyd said, as if he knew what Derek was doing. "Erica's still in her room, and Scott's asleep."

Derek smiled at his oldest. "Thanks, bud," he said, throwing back his covers and grabbing his pyjama bottoms from the floor. "Can you go make sure they don't try and start cooking without me?"

Boyd nodded and left the room. Derek finished getting dressed in his sweatpants and a thin tee. Despite the bitter winter months rolling in, he was still unnaturally hot. Werewolf excessive body heat had it's perks.

Downstairs, Derek found Jackson, Isaac, Stiles and Boyd all sitting at the breakfast counter. Stiles had his arm elbow deep in a new cereal box, and Derek knew Stiles was fishing for the free toy.

"Let me help," Boyd offered, but instantly Stiles shifted away from him, using his small back as a shield from Boyd.

"I got it," Stiles said, his tongue pressed between his lips in concentration as he scrambled through the cereal.

Normally, the kids would have moaned about Stiles getting his grubby hands all over the cereal, but they didn't this time as Stiles had his hands in his cereal. Derek had learned a long time ago that having six children, all from different homes and situations, meant they had different habits and routines. And while Derek had managed to alter them in a way that all complimented each other and worked in a way that suited Derek's beliefs and habits too, Stiles still had a obsession with a cereal called Cookie Crisp, that no one else was allowed to eat.

Like Stiles with his cereal, all the children had something they didn't shake off when moving in with Derek: Boyd had to read before bed, undisturbed and in silence, Erica had to have someone sitting on either side of her at the dinner table, Isaac had to say 'I love you' to everyone before anyone left, Scott had to have his inhaler on his bedside, despite not being asthmatic since he was a baby, and Jackson had to sleep with the hall light on.

Derek loved all of these habits and essentials that his children carried, and he embraced them in a way to ease the embarrassment some of them felt when admitting it.

"Got it!" Stiles yelled, pulling his arm out of the box and holding up the 'special spoon' in his hand in triumph. Derek saw the accident before it almost happened. He saw the box begin to slip in Stiles' loose grip, the cereal tipping and finally coming out of Stiles' hand. Stiles noticed at the last moment, gasping and scrambling for the falling box.

Derek caught the box in a quick stride, stopping the cereal from pouring out. He placed it firmly on the counter top, ruffling Stiles' messy hair and said, "Be careful."

Stiles let out a long breath, and then he grinned, climbing to his knees on the bar stool and shoving the spoon in Derek's face. "Look, Derek! Look what I got!"

Derek couldn't help but smile. "Very nice," he said. "You gonna eat your cereal with it?"

"Yes!" Stiles beamed, staring down at the spoon like it was his prize possession (which it will be now, most likely). He looked up at Derek with enormous brown eyes. "Can I have some cereal now?"

"Of course, kiddo," Derek said, grabbing a plastic Star Wars bowl from the cupboard and poured Stiles a few hand full's of Cookie Crisp. "If you finish it all, then you can have more."

Stiles nodded and dived in with his spoon.

Derek turned to his other children, leaning against the counter and taking in their crinkled pyjamas and bed hair. "What would you all like for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," Stiles said, mouth full of cereal and small crumbs spewing out of his mouth.

"Pancakes," Jackson nodded, as did Isaac and Boyd.

Derek smiled. "Alright, waffles it is," he turned to the stove, beginning to get out the ingredients. "Can someone go and wake up Scott and get Erica?"

Boyd disappeared without a word.

Derek whisked the mix within minutes, grabbing a pan and oiling it up before putting it over the hob. He poured some mixture into the hot pan, flipping it a few times. Scott, Erica and Boyd entered the kitchen when Derek finished the first one.

He looked over his shoulder as he poured a second pancake. "Morning, sleepyheads," he said.

Scott, who was in mid yawn, dropped down in the bar stool next to Stiles. "Morning, Derek," he replied, sounding groggy and half asleep.

Derek left the burner for few minutes, moving around the kitchen to gather all the toppings he knows his children like. He was just reaching for the cinnamon flakes when he felt a hand tug at his t-shirt. He looked down to see Isaac staring up at him.

"What's up, buddy?" Derek asked, crouching down so he wasn't towering over his child so much.

"Can I have lemon on my pancakes today?" Isaac asked, voice hesitant. Despite being Derek's first adoption, almost six years ago when Isaac was barely 3, Isaac was still the most haunted and warrant of his past. His abusive father, whom Derek had rescued him from, had broken and bruised Isaac, manipulating him in ways a 3 year old should never have been treated. And to this day, Isaac was still nervous to ask for things like lemon on his pancakes instead of his usual syrup.

Derek had to frequently remind himself that Isaac was scarred at a young age, and therefore it was going to take longer than five caring years for Isaac to be completely at ease again.

"Of course you can, Isaac," Derek said softly, smiling and resting a gentle hand on Isaac's shoulder. The boy didn't flinch like he used to, and while he hadn't done it in years, it still made Derek cautious to touch him. "You don't have to be scared to ask, you know this."

Isaac smiled then, glowing and genuine. Derek felt a warm blossom in his chest, and he gave Isaac's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before standing up and nursing his pancakes. Within a few minutes, he had the table stacked heigh with six plates of pancakes and a variety of toppings and fruits along with them.

The children moved to the dining table, taking their usual seat. Stiles had finished his cereal, so he was sharing a pile of strawberry and chocolate sauce pancakes with Scott.

"Can I get some orange juice?" Jackson asked.

Derek nodded where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. "In the fridge door."

It had been almost two weeks since Jackson came home, and the young boy had proved himself to be quite the character. Despite his short temper and oversized ego, the kid was brilliant. Derek could see now, he was going to be a athletic teenager, mesmerised by sport. He got along best with Boyd, but Derek thinks that's because Boyd is the oldest and most mature. Erica and him seemed to have snapping matches every now and then, causing Isaac and Stiles to get uncomfortable with the tension and shouting. Jackson, at first, had taken to a bit of a dislike towards Scott and Stiles. Derek wasn't sure why, but he thinks it had something to do with the younger two grating on Jackson's nerves too much. Jackson quickly softened up, though, and now the group of children got along much better than they had when Jackson first came home.

Derek sat the head of the table, smiling into his coffee mug at his pack.

"Derek," Scott asked. "What are we doing today?"

"Good question," Derek hummed, putting his half empty mug down. "Uncle Peter and Malia are coming over after breakfast."

"Do they have to?" Erica grumbled, and Derek refrained from frowning. He knew Erica didn't get along with Malia, which was a shame as they were the only female children in the family.

"Yes, Erica, they do," Derek sighed, making his tone apologetic because as much as Peter was family, Derek really did hate his guts and having him come over was only going to cause Derek great grief. But, as Derek promised Laura, he needed to start trying to create a relationship with Peter in their ever small family.

"Can't Auntie Laura and Cora come over instead?" Erica asked, pouting.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Cora's at college and Laura's at work," Derek said. "Peter and Malia will only be over for a few hours, I promise. They'll be gone just after lunch."

Erica slouched in her seat with an exaggerated sigh, but didn't say anything else.

"Who's Malia?" Jackson asked.

"She's my niece, and your cousin," Derek explained. "Peter is my uncle."

"Are they assholes then?"

Derek's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Language, Jackson," he said. 

That was also a thing about his newest addition: Jackson had a vile mouth. Apparently, in his last home, swearing, despite your age, was acceptable and Jackson was used to a variety of verbal abuse. It was obviously a hard habit to kill, as he was still cursing after two weeks.

"They are," Erica said. "Uncle Peter is weird and Malia is aggressive. She tried to eat Stiles' arm the first time we met her because she thought humans were food."

Stiles nodded vigorously in his seat, cheeks boated with stuffed pancakes, making him look like a baby chipmunk.

"Does she not have control?" Jackson asked.

"She does, she just thinks she's a animal,"

"Erica," Derek scolded. "Malia has a had a tough childhood, just like you six. She has control, but doesn't fully understand human concepts. Which is not her fault."

"I still don't like her," Erica said, tilting her chin up in defiance.

Derek sighed and shook his head, knowing there was no way to match Erica when she made her mind up.

"Finish your breakfast, all of you. They'll be here in an hour, so I want you to be dressed and washed for when they arrive."

There's a collection of groans that Derek pleasantly ignored. After breakfast, the kids pile their plastic dishes into the sink and scatter from the kitchen.

Derek washed up to the enhanced sound of the children in their bedrooms, smiling to himself when he hears Scott helping Stiles pick out some clothes to wear.

Peter and Malia arrive just over an hour later, and their entrance is somewhat. . . inappropriate.

There's a single knock at the door, signalling Derek before the front door swung open without acceptance. Derek was midway to exiting the kitchen when his uncle and niece enter the house, arousing a rumble of growls.

"Erica, Jackson. Stop," he scolded, coming into the living room where all of his pups were gathered on the couches.

"Anger management issues still, I see," Peter mused, and Derek sent him a glare. Malia was standing at his side, looking no different to when they last came over. 

"Peter, don't," Derek warned. He turned to the children on the sofa's. "Erica, watch it. Jackson, this is Malia and my uncle Peter."

Jackson, to his credit, doesn't seem to be glaring as hard as Erica. Considering all he's probably heard is negative views about this side of the family, the curt nod and short 'Hello' is enough to ease Derek's worry.

"Peter, Malia, this is Jackson," Derek introduced. Peter flashed a sly smirk, most likely to creep the child out - as he had done with all of the rest of Derek's cubs. Derek knew Peter wasn't violent or psychotic anymore, but that didn't mean he didn't stop giving people goosebumps with his smiles and tone of voice. 

Derek and Peter go into the kitchen, giving the kids a chance to get on. Derek was nervous, to say the least. He knew Jackson was a good kid, but he still had his issues, as do the other pups. He could see Jackson and Malia clashing, and he knew the outcome is not going to be pretty.

But, he needed to give them the benefit of the doubt, and give them a chance.

"Coffee?" Derek asked, already heading towards the pot.

"Oh, no, raspberry tea please," Peter replied. "Here, I brought a few tea bags."

Derek turned around in time to see Peter pulling a tea bag out of his jacket pocket. When Derek rose an eyebrow, he quickly shrugged, 

"I figured you wouldn't have any. You only drink coffee,"

Derek took the tea bag. "And usually you do too."

"Oh, God no," Peter shook his head. "I stopped drinking coffee a few months ago after I found out the amount of damage caffeine does. Did you knew drinking more than four cups a day is linked to an early death. It damages your liver."

"Peter, we're werewolves," Derek deadpanned as he poured Peter a cup of hot water and dropped the tea bag in it, giving him the mug.

"Our bodies are temples, Nephew. We must only feed it kindness," Peter replied, stirring his tea.

"Since when did you get so symbolic?" Derek asked, pouring his own mug, but with coffee.

"Since Malia turned seven and I realised that to be a good parent, I need to be a good person, and that starts with being a  _healthy_  person," 

Derek watched as his uncle stirred his tea before lifting the tea bag out, putting it in the trash and taking a small sip. 

"So, hows having six children?" Peter asked.

"It's good," Derek replied simply. 

"Stressful, I imagine,"

"Only some times. The majority of the time, it's great. Jackson gets along brilliantly with them all, he's really fitted in,"

"That's good. He seems like a troubled kid,"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—"

Peter was cut off by a loud snarl and a series of shouts. Both their heads snapped towards the kitchen door. 

Derek put his coffee down and fled the room, Peter in tow. The sounds came from the garden and they both burst out onto the porch, looking for the threat only to find the children snarling at each other.

"Hey!" Derek shouted, stepping down the porch stairs and heading towards them. Erica had Malia's head in her hand, Malia's claws out and swiping at Jackson. Everything they were saying was mixing together. "Stop it. Erica, let go of her hair this instant!"

He grabbed Erica's hand, their eyes connecting and she let go. Derek grabbed Malia before she could pounce on Jackson, pushing her so she stood behind him, keeping her at arms length.

"What the hell is going on?"

Apparently, that was the complete wrong question, for instantly he was overloaded with them all shouting at once, not a single word being able to be detected.

"Enough!" He snapped, his alpha tone seeping into his voice. Instantly, they silenced. "Boyd, tell me what happened."

"We were playing tag. Malia kept tagging Stiles because he's the slowest and Erica was getting annoyed because Malia couldn't run slow for him like we all do," Boyd explained.

"Right," Derek sighed. "Well, the easiest way to solve this is for you all to apologise."

"No way!" Malia shouted

"I am not apologising to her!" Erica snapped.

Derek resisted the urge to smash their heads together. "Girls, if you don't apologise, you will both be on the naughty step for the rest of the day."

That was a good enough threat. Derek knew Erica hated the naughty step because 'it's so boring, Derek!'.

Erica huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She muttered, "Sorry."

"What was that? I can't hear you when you mumble," Derek said, even though he could.

Erica clenched her jaw, expression turning stony. She looked at the floor as she repeated louder. "I'm sorry, Malia."

"Good," Derek nodded. "Malia, your turn."

"But—"

"No but's," Derek interrupted. "Apologise  _now_."

Malia stomped her foot on the forest floor. "No!"

Derek flashed his ruby red eyes moments before Peter came fluttering down the stairs. 

"Malia, dear, you need to apologise," he said, coming to stand next to his child, hands resting on her shoulder.

Malia looked up at her father. "But I didn't—"

"Just apologise, Malia," Peter sighed. Malia's shoulders slouched and she faced back to them all.

"I'm sorry," she grumbled, and Derek didn't have the patience to make her speak up. 

He nodded, taking a step back. "No more tag today. Go play something else."

"We can play Lego!" Stiles shouted.

"Yeah!" Scott agreed, grabbing Stiles and Isaac by the hand before running inside the house.

"Play nice," Derek said to the other three before he followed the kids inside.

Peter and Malia came in a moment later and Malia went upstairs to find the others in the den where Isaac, Scott and Stiles had a whole Lego city built.

Derek went into the kitchen and slouched against the cabinet, closing his eyes.

"Well, that could have been messy," Peter mused, and Derek opened his eyes in time to see his uncle enter the kitchen, sitting down in the same chair he was in and pick up his mug to take a sip. 

Derek didn't reply, just picked up his own coffee and downed it in a few gulps. 

*****

They managed another hour and a half before the screaming started again. Peter was just finishing his last mug of tea, preparing to get Malia and go home in time for dinner when they heard the first shout.

A crash followed, the sound of a surprised cry and more shouting.

Derek was up and out of the chair he was sitting in in a flash, sprinting up the stairs onto the second floor and into the den. 

The Lego was spewed across the floor, the building's broken and crumbled. Erica and Malia were wrestling on the floor, half shifted and snarling. Jackson had Malia by the hair, and Boyd was pulling on Jackson's shoulders as if to get him off. Scott was standing by the door, screaming for them to stop.

Derek leaped forward, grabbing Erica by the waist and yanking her off the same time Boyd managed to get Jackson to let go. Peter swooped in, pulling Malia to her feet. 

"What the hell was it this time?" Peter snarled.

Derek looked at Scott behind him, who had tear tracks down his cheeks. "Scott, what happened?"

"Malia smashed everything!" Scott cried. "We were playing and she smashed it all!"

"That's not true!" Malia shouted. "It was their fault, they were being annoying and—"

"You smashed it! You broke their Lego!" Erica snarled, struggling in his arms. "Do you have any idea how long it took us to make it all?"

"Enough!" Derek bellowed. "That is enough."

"Malia, why did you break their Lego?" Peter asked.

"Because they wouldn't let me live in the big house," Malia said. "Apparently that was Stiles and Isaac's house, but I wanted to live in it."

"Was that really a reason to break all their Lego?" Peter sighed, and Derek was thankful that Peter wasn't taking Malia's side instantly like he has done before in the past.

Malia pursed her lower lip, crossing her arms. "Well. . ."

"The answer is no, Malia," Peter said. "You shouldn't have broken their Lego. That was  _wrong_."

Malia looked down, and Derek could hear her heart slowing. The anger draining out of the air. 

"I'm sorry," she said.

Peter smiled. "Good." He looked up, almost expectantly.

"Erica, Jackson, apologise for fighting Malia," Derek added.

The pair muttered their apologies and Derek didn't have the energy to make them say it like they meant it.

"Well, that couldn't have gone worse," Peter said as they walked downstairs to see them out.

"It could have," Derek countered. "At least they all apologised first time."

Peter snorted. "True. Well, thank you, Nephew. I'm sorry for all the trouble. Hopefully next time won't be so bad."

Derek opened the front door and nodded. "Same to you. See you, Uncle Peter. Bye, Malia."

Malia sent him a wave and when Derek shut the door, he felt a hand grab his own.

He looked down to see Scott.

"What's up, pup?" He asked.

"Stiles and Isaac are hiding. They got scared because of the fighting," Scott whimpered.

Derek's expression softened. "It's okay, pup. I'll find them, okay?"

"Can we have a puppy pile tonight?" Scott asked with a small voice.

"Of course," Derek smiled. "Come on, lets find them."

Derek held Scott's hand as they made their way back upstairs. Derek attuned his hearing to know that Isaac and Stiles were in his room. 

Apparently, so did the other pups, as they were standing outside his bedroom door when they got there.

Derek smiled sadly, opening the door.

There was a lump in the middle of the bed under the covers. He stepped in, sitting on the bed and slowly pulling the comforter back to reveal his pups who were curled around each other. They looked up at him, eyes red and cheeks wet.

"Aw, pups," he said sadly. "Come here."

They didn't need much more invitation than that. In the next instant, the pair were jumping up and pressing themselves into his chest, small arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders. 

"We don't like shouting," Isaac mumbled, muffled by the fabric on his shoulder.

Derek nodded. "I know, pup. It's over now. Peter and Malia have gone home."

"She broke my Lego," Stiles whimpered. 

"I know, but we can rebuild it," Derek replied. He nodded to the others standing in the doorway and in no time, the family were spread in a cuddling pile across the stretch of the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> — unedited.
> 
> Leave kudos and comments! :)


End file.
